Trouble Brews
by salvatoresandherondales
Summary: Hey, guys. This one is just a one-shot, set after Mockingjay and where Coin does not die. Please leave reviews, they mean so much.


"Nex! Arden!" I shout. "Inside! Now!"

The two children, who were playing cheekily in the fields, respond to the call by giving each other looks, then darting in the opposite direction. Despite the fact that Nex is a teenager, he still gives his younger sister the time of day. Peeta and I brought both of them up with the motto _Life's too short_.

I sigh. I should expect it, seeing as it is only 5 in the evening, and their curfew is 6. It's not that I worry for them being out late, with mine and Peeta's experience in the Games they're definitely not defenceless, but they are only 12 and 14.

Nex looks almost exactly like his father, same shaggy blonde hair, and same shiny blue eyes. He has my nose, though.

Arden, on the other hand, reminds me terribly of my younger sister Prim, and my ally in my first Games, Rue. She's small, petite, with long blonde hair that I plait regularly, like I did with my hair when I was just Katniss Everdeen, not the Mockingjay or The Girl On Fire.

"Katniss?"

My eyes refocus and I find myself looking into bright blue eyes, tinged with curiosity. "Peeta," I smile. "The kids decided to run away together."

"Again?" he asks with a sly smile, pulling me in for a peck on the cheek. "I'll go find them."

"We're obviously bad parents," I call out after him.

"Sure," he answers wryly from over his shoulder. He gives me an award-winning smile and winks before disappearing to find our missing children.

Even with our little bantering sessions, sometimes we even let the kids join in, we still remember the Rebellion as though it was yesterday. Occasionally, Peeta wakes up in the middle of the night, sweating horribly. Truth be told, it happens to me also. It's what you get when you're forced to kill, I suppose.

When it happened the other night I immediately woke up, call it a sixth sense you want, and asked him what was wrong.

"The Games," he'd gotten out.

I sighed, knowing exactly what was going through his head. I rubbed his back reassuringly. "Who?"

"Cato," he replied with a ghostly look, "when he fell, the mutts and their eyes. Everything, Katniss." He grimaced, leaning back into the bed. "Will it ever stop?" he whispered.

I brushed my finger gently down his cheek. "I don't know, Peeta. I really don't. The only thing I do know is that, even if they don't, we're here. Together, Peeta, forever and always." I got back into a comfortable position, resting my head on his chest and wrapping my arms securely around him. His own arm went protectively around my shoulders.

"Together," he murmured sleepily, "forever and always."

Thinking back on it now, it was basically the best sleep I'd had since before Arden was born. In the morning we'd been a tangled mess, but it had so been worth it.

I move towards our kitchen, which is nearly bigger then my old house itself, and tidy up. The Victor's Village in District 12 had gotten demolished like everything else had when the Capitol had decided to destroy everything I loved when the Rebellion I'd apparently, then not now, created had risen. Everything had been gone, until the citizens of District 12 came back from the newly above ground District 13. They'd started anew, building rows upon rows of new houses, new shops.

Of course, it wasn't all our own materials. One of the healers, a friend of my mothers, had sent word to the Capitol, and President Paylor.

Paylor, the woman I'd met from District 8 when the Rebellion was in the midst of taking over the Districts first, was a brilliant President of Panem. Everyone followed her rulings. She was fair and just, nice and kind, passionate and strong: everything you'd want for a President.

She'd asked the other Districts for their help, promising them with a gift if they gave us some materials to use. It wasn't bribery, just fair trade.

I had been in contact with her a couple times, only to ask how everything was going. Panem has slowly been moving onwards and upwards since it's take over. People no longer look crazy, except Caesar Flickerman who wouldn't, and still won't, let anyone go near his bright blue hair and his signature suit.

There is no longer morphlings. Everyone gets along, even if they are in separate Districts. Nothing keeps them apart any more, and there is no more unjust cruelty. There is no more upper or lower class men, everyone has jobs, and no one lives freely. Nothing is free but there are certainly no massive taxes.

The Districts, of course, still have the certain industries they are responsible for.

District 12 has reopened the coal mines, somewhere different since the mine they'd used before the Capitol's bombs was fully non-operational. The new spot is located on the opposite side of District 12, and surprisingly, it is the perfect place. More coal is going through the conveyor belts then I've even seen before.

District 11's agriculture business is blooming, pardon the pun. The orchards where Rue used to work have grown hugely; I'd visited her workplace and her family a couple of years before Peeta and I had gotten married. There are a dozen or so more apples on every tree then there had been when Snow was running the show.

District 10's livestock are in an amazingly good season, and Dalton, the man I'd met around the time of Peeta and my Hunger Games, is the top farmer of 10's.

District 9's grain factories now have more workers than ever, grain being part of the favourite cereal choices in the outer Districts. People in Districts 12, 11, 10 and 9 are used to it.

District 8's, Paylor's home before becoming President, textile business is huge. Now that everyone's clothing is supposedly back to normal, simple clothing is in massive demand. Effie is actually now the biggest fashion designer all over Panem, and she works from the District. My family and I see her occasionally, considering she _is _one of the main reasons Peeta and I are alive

District 7, the wood and paper district, is going along smoothly, though probably the slowest District with the business end of things. Socially and being un-District-like, however, is the biggest thing going for 7. A lot of their citizens are hired specifically for entertainment reasons throughout Panem. They are taken to the Capitol, made to perform in front of the Entertainment Minister, a Miss Meeka Angleberry, and then put into one of three different entertainment schools, based on how good they were. A good friend of mine, Delly Cartwright, is now at the best school, and travelling around Panem. She dances. Joanna Mason, another good friend and a fellow Tribute, came from 7 and claimed 'pine trees smelt like home'.

District 6 is improving slowly, being known Panem-wide as morphling, a morphine-like pain relief, addicts. They lost both Tributes in the 74th and 75th Games, only in the 75th Game their Tributes had promised to try to save me, since I was the Mockingjay. They are gradually expanding their Transportation business. They have a quota, and they are _just_ getting there.

District 5 is power and they're definitely going fine, after all everyone needs power, right? They _are _the most popular, and because of that they're not the most liked.

District 4 is for fishing. Fishing for the Capitol but, thanks to President Paylor, they're allowed to fish for fun, and keep the treasure. This year the fish have decided that District 4 has the best tasting krill, and the demand for seafood is high. One of my closest friends, Finnick Odair and his wife Annie, were from there. They're said to be the best-looking District. In my eyes, it doesn't matter what you look like, but also in my eyes, they _are_ the most attractive. It's sad but true.

District 3's electronics are another thing that's in high demand. With Beetee given free rein by President Paylor to make anything worth using, everyone wants a piece. Wiress also came from there, who Joanna jokingly named them Nuts and Volts.

District 2 is responsible for the weapons made for the President's police force. The Enforcement Minister, Hephaystus Stubler, always asks them specifically for the weapons but everyone easily knows the demands come from higher up.

District 1 is known for making the luxury goods, and luxury goods they make. They were nice enough to give District 12 some of their un-luxury goods when our buildings went up, but to the rest of 12, they're worth a lot more than usual.

Now, it brings us back to District 13, who have been above ground since a little bit after the Rebellion. They're still responsible for nuclear weapons and the graphite mining, but are definitely kept an eye on closely by President Paylor. After all, they were the ones that started the Rebellion, and hid under plenty of President Snow's radars for a couple of decades. She has an extra amount of police enforcers there but they're undercover as bakers or something mundane. Other times they're just plain clothed.

All different mayors have been elected, a choice chosen by the previous mayors. They figured they'd give it a rest, give someone else the job. It gave them a special house, though not as good as the mayor's house.

Speaking of nice houses, the Mellark's got one. Yes, we have one. The wonderful people of District 12 built it for us when we went to visit my mother in the Capitol a couple of weeks after the Rebellion. We were only gone for a week, and yet the house is almost definitely the best looking one in the whole District.

When we'd come back, and everyone had been waiting for us, I nearly shouted at all of them. Only Peeta's hand on my waist had stopped me. I just smiled, as I was so used to doing, and thanked them. I then nodded going inside, and wandered.

The house is two stories, with stairs leading up the 2nd in a corner of the yellow-walled lounge room. The kitchen's a medium purple, painted in thick stripes you can see clearly. White cabinets dot the walls, and it has all of Beetee's newest kitchen inventions.

The bedrooms are on the second story. There are 4 of them, District 12 somehow predicting that Peeta and I were going to have kids. In mine and Peeta's room, an extra bathroom is joined on.

The whole house is absolutely magnificent, and Peeta, the kids and I are in love.

A bang at the door rips my reverie apart, and I whip my head around to the red archway that connects the foyer to the kitchen.

My husband walks in, followed by my red-faced children. I chuck a curious glance at Peeta, raising my eyebrows.

"The lake," he answers. "They were hiding in that shack. Where you found Twill and Bonnie, or rather they found you."

I look at Nex and Arden. "Grandfather's lake?" I ask.

Nex nods. "Yes. We were just looking around."

"For what, Arden?" I turn my gaze to my daughter.

She doesn't speak for a while before looking at Nex. He shrugs, and she mumbles, "For a snare, like the one Uncle Gale makes."

My eyes slowly travel to Peeta's. He turns to Nex. "Nex Mitch," he says. His voice is calm, but his eyes are deadly. "And Arden Rose, could you please go to your rooms? Your mother and I would like talk."

Shoulders slumped and eyes down cast, they walk from the room. My hands find the edge of the bench just as my legs fail.

"Uncle Gale?" Peeta questions almost immediately.

I shrug casually, but the tension in my shoulders is evident. "I have no idea," I whisper.

"They haven't been over hearing our conversations, have they?"

I shake my head. "No. I've made sure no one could hear us."

"Then how?" he asks. His eyes are almost pleading.

Making a decision, I say, "Let's ask them, shall we?"

"Arden?" I question softly, knocking on my daughters door.

"Mom?" she calls out.

I take this as cue to come in and push gently on the door. I locate her curled up in a ball, wrapped in a mess of blankets. "Arden, honey," I say, walking towards her and sitting beside her. "Tell me what you know about Gale."

Her eyes turn towards me and I take in the red rings circled under her eyes. She goes to speak but stops. She says nothing.

"Arden?" I say again. "You know you can tell me anything. What do you know, sweetheart?"

"That he was your best friend," she finally whispers. I get the feeling there's more.

"And?"

"You don't have contact with him anymore."

I sigh. "Where did you hear this information?"

"The Barrier," she answers. The Barrier is like the new Seam in District 12. Ripper and Rooba are the only old District 12 people remaining to run the stalls. Other persons from the different Districts have come to work here though, coming for the 'quietness' of 12.

I raise my eyebrows, and narrow my eyes. "The Barrier," I repeat. "And when were you there?"

"The other day; Tuesday."

"Tuesday," I repeat slowly. The day clicks in my head. "When you said you went around to Tera's house?"

Arden nods timidly before trying to explain herself, "I did go around there to begin with, though. Then I dragged her to The Barrier. We met up with-" she cuts herself off quickly.

"Met up with whom?" I ask dangerously calm.

"No one," she lies.

"Yeah?"

She nods hurriedly.

"Well, I'll just go tell Tera's mother what you were doing then, shall I?" I warn. "She does know, doesn't she?"

"Mum, please don't." Arden looks up at me. "We sneaked out," she adds.

"Okay. Who did you meet up with?"

"Nex," she whispers.

"But Nex was with his friend, too." Everything suddenly makes sense. "You met up with your brother, and his friend, just to find out about Gale? And why do you call him Uncle Gale? You don't even know him." I look at my daughter.

"Mum," she says softly, laying a hand on my arm. "I'm sorry. When we were told about him from a lady called Cion, we just had to know more."

"Wait," I interrupt before she can continue. "A lady called Cion?"

"Yeah," my daughter replies, nodding. "She's really nice but a little bit on the old side. She lives on the outskirts of town, and only comes in on Tuesdays."

"Cion," I repeat, slowly. A knot starts to form in the pit of my stomach, and dread runs through my body. I used to know a person with those same letters. "Does she have a last name?"

Arden shakes her head. "Funny thing, I don't she does. But she did tell me that Cion isn't really her first name. She changed it after the Rebellion."

"I'm listening," I say through clenched teeth. If she says the one word I hope she doesn't, I have no idea what'll happen.

"Alma."


End file.
